We step into the mansion. Kaden veers off to deal with security while I head upstairs, down the hall, and into the room beside mine. I texted ahead to have everything ready. Clean sheets and a few of my shirts and sweatpants folded on the dresser. Fresh towels in the bathroom. I’ll get her more things tomorrow.
She’s still out cold. I lower her onto the bed and pull a blanket over her. She’s in nothing but her underwear, and for the first time, I really see her body. A scar along her left ribs. A few stretch marks on her right breast and hips. She’s fucking perfect.
She stirs; her breathing shifts, quickens. Her eyes blink open, slow to focus.
“Autumn,” I say.
I’m standing at the end of the bed. Her gaze snaps to mine, and she jolts upright. The blanket slips down. She yanks it back over her chest like it’s armour and glares at me, eyes wide and burning.
“You drugged me!” she shouts.
She stands up too fast, wobbles, but keeps her grip on that blanket like it’s life or death.
“I saved you.” I cross my arms, keeping my eyes on hers.
“You’re an asshole.” She turns and storms toward the door. “I’m leaving.”
I chuckle low in my chest, and when she hears it, she spins around like a storm ready to break. Her face is flushed, breathing ragged.
“You’re not leaving, trouble.”
“The hell I’m not!”
She grabs a lamp off the vanity and hurls it at me. It misses by a mile. I don’t even have to move.
Then she runs.
In her fucking underwear.
My heart kicks harder, and my cock stirs at the sight of her fleeing like that—bare, reckless, and furious.
I inhale once, deep. Then I move.
Boots striking marble, I head down the stairs. The place is empty, exactly how I ordered it; my men are outside.
They protect the estate.Iprotect her.
A sound of glass breaking echoes on the left side of the house.
She’s clumsy, loud, chaotic. She wouldn’t last a day in this world, and yet somehow she’s survived a stalker for years. The thought twists something in my chest.
I follow the sound, turn into the library, and slip through the side door. I cut her off just as she charges past, and she screams when she sees me.
Too late.
I lunge, grab her waist, and slam her against the wall. Her breath leaves her lungs in a harsh gasp as her back hits the plaster. She lifts her chin, eyes wide, neck arched just enough to bare that soft throat.
“I told you, trouble,” I say, pressing closer. “There’s no running from me.”
Her chest rises fast against mine. Her forehead glistens with sweat. I feel the heat coming off her skin.
“You can’t keep me here!” she shouts, hitting my chest with her fists. “Someone will call the police!”
I lean in, grab her chin, and force her to look at me.
“Who’s going to call the police, Autumn?”
Her brown eyes lock on mine like they want to burn straight through.
